Snapshots in Time
by spinningleaves
Summary: Drabbles. Because things weren't always intended to end the way they did. And no one ever said that life was easy. REFORMATTED.
1. Lily and James

**Author's Note:** This is a collection of short drabbles featuring James and Lily. As I'm new to the site, any type of review would be greatly, greatly appreciated. Constructive criticism is absolutely welcome!

**Changes**

And then there were the long lasting periods where Lily was the very definition of uncertainty. Her interests changed on a whim, from running to knitting to Quidditch to cooking.

She was a whirlwind of ever changing indecision. Her best friend had once simply said that during the year we all looked inside ourselves, Lily was hunting the universe for the New Lily.

There were wardrobe changes, short hair, long curls, silver highlights, peasant skirts, knee socks and loafers, red stilettos and miniskirts. The redhead tried on any image she could get her hands on and then discarded it just as quickly as it had arrived.

Then came the boys. The older Hufflepuff rebel and the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain, the quiet and studious Derek and the drunken freefall of Ethan.

At sixteen Lily had hit the stage where there was no place in her heart for constants, nothing too sacred to be altered on a moment's notice and no stone left unturned on her quest for happiness.

Sometime around winter the wardrobe changes were too inconvenient and in the spring she started to miss the long, simple auburn hair and in between the two a string of romantic catastrophes had her thinking she'd seen enough boys to last a lifetime.

And then the old Lily slowly emerged, full of metaphorical patches and frays to mark the things she had lost and gained on her one year hunt and it seemed clear that the girl had become a woman who had found whatever she was searching for along the way.

**Easy**

She knew she didn't love him and somehow that just made everything easier. Her hair had fallen out of its bun, her lips were on fire, her robes had slipped off her left shoulder and it was all okay because they would never be in love.

There would never be regret or heartbreak or awkward acknowledgements in the halls because it was nothing but lust. He couldn't resist the spirited, vivacious redhead and she'd always had a certain fondness for Quidditch captains.

But this one was as fair as the other was dark, so even with her eyes almost fully lidded she could never confuse the two and she didn't want to.



James had been fireworks and falling and tears and crashing and now the weight of their past seemed to smother any potential future, but this boy was merely the present.

No chance for tomorrow, no leftover pain from yesterday, so when she pulled away it wasn't because of doubt or regret of uncertainty, it was due to the simple fact that her patrol rounds started on the third floor in five minutes.

So she gave him a wink, smoothed her hair and reapplied her lip-gloss as she walked away.

**Caffeine**

That Lily Evans had a predilection for caffeine was in and of itself unsurprising. The girl had more responsibilities than any student he had ever met.

At the top of her class, burdened with Head Girl duties, she was one of the last to bed at night and one of the first to breakfast the next morning. Break time between classes should've been a time for rest, but was instead spent aiding every lost first year or distressed fourth year that sought her out.

With the amount of time that the girl moved at full blast a day, he was unsurprised that she was rarely seen without a mug in one hand. She had her very own convoluted method of determining the drink of the day.

Snow generally implied tea while rain meant coffee. Early mornings and late at night were for peppermint, hazelnut and vanilla, while herbal teas were for breaks and classes.

Of course, these standards could change on a whim as she spent a solid month drinking only red teas and another two weeks with cinnamon sprinkled in every drink regardless of its previous flavor.

But one thing never changed. Official business meant coffee. Prefects meetings, Head Girl business and castle patrols were always fueled by coffee.

James had yet to determine how this caffeine system was governed but that still didn't stop him from appreciating its presence when every kiss meant a wide variety of potential flavors.

**Decoration**

When they're children he can't help but laugh at her when she insists on decorating various parts of the Common Room regardless of month or theme. Eventually, he gets used to the habit, and though he'll never admit it, he comes to look forward to the bursts of color.

By winter of their seventh year the girl, now a young woman and his girlfriend, has taken this habit to a whole new level when she fixes a wreath of flowers to his cat's neck.



He demands for its removal from his masculine pet and won't relent even as she insists that every cat in the tower is wearing one.

When he refuses to acquiesce, she drastically changes tactics. A pouting lower lip and tear-filled eyes make him the controlling boyfriend who won't humor his beautiful, devastated girlfriend.

With a long suffering sigh she goes to remove the collar and just as her hands hove rover the patient feline, he sighs in response and shoos it away with a reluctant hand.

When she twirls to smile at him with a radiant glow he pulls her against his chest and they both know she's won.

**Stress**

She doesn't get a single full night's sleep once the autumn term is under way. She's suddenly buckling under Head Girl duties, NEWT Level Studies and a tumultuous social life.

The stress has her caffeine addicted and noticeably losing weight. Pale skin gets even paler, making freckles stand out and large under eye circles look like bruises. Friends tell her to relax, delegate more duties, get some sleep, but they don't understand that she's in too deep now.

And when she stumbles across Amos behind the greenhouses with some blonde Hufflepuff after two consecutive all-nighters she finally loses it.

James is the one that finds her sobbing hysterically on the carpeted floor of the Head's Common Room; her back held straight only by the cold stone wall. He pulls her into his arms and listens to her wail incomprehensibly for the rest of the night.

After she's calmed down he goes to the hospital wing and returns with a sleeping draught. She gives a bitter chuckle that her friends have missed the utter breakdown they've been prophesying for weeks, but then she is taking the draught.

She wakes up a full day later still tired. She spends the next few days almost entirely asleep and within a week a flush has returned to her cheeks and her friends are all thrilled to see disaster averted.

James never says a word about it to anyone, and it this more than anything that has her in Hogsmeade with him a few weeks later.

**Problems**

It takes a few weeks to realize that she may be a walking disaster. She's fairly certain that she's gained a few pounds over the summer, her transfiguration grade is slipping yet again and despite her 

friends' adamant claims that she is a very attractive girl, she realizes it's been months since she was asked on a date.

She distinctly remembers hearing somewhere that admitting you have a problem is the first step, but for the life of her she can't remember Step 2, or any after that.

So she comes to the abrupt conclusion that she will fix all of this herself. She takes twenty minutes a day to review her transfiguration work, begins to run on the grounds every other day before classes and tries to smile approachable at every boy she sees.

Though the first two solutions resolve things admirably, she still finds herself unable to get a date. The final straw comes when the boy she has been actively flirting with for weeks in Muggle Studies still doesn't ask her to Hogsmeade despite repeated rumors of his interest.

This dilemma comes to make much more sense a few days later when she stumbles upon James Potter threatening the boy in a deserted classroom in the East Wing. She hexes him thoroughly, and afterwards decides that two out of three really isn't terribly bad.

**Author's Note: **Those are six drabbles that I have so far, if anyone would like to see more I'd be happy to continue posting. Please review, no matter how brief! Thank you very much for reading!


	2. Lily, James and Others

**Author's Note:** This section is once again Lily and James focused, but towards the end beings to branch into other characters. As always, thank you so much for reading. Even the shortest of reviews would be great, and please feel free to point out any errors or areas for improvement.

**Sometimes (Lily and James)**

She loves used bookstores and peppermint tea and wishing on the first star in the sky. She loves pineapples with fresh cherries and warm croissants and weekends at their summer cottage and sometimes she even thinks she loves him too.

She gives her heart way like pieces of a pie, yet none of this is difficult because through some fluke of nature she has enough heart for them all. Sometimes she wonders if their love really is destiny.

If their love was written in the stars then why is it so much easier to love everything, anything, else?

Chocolate, parchment, fireplaces- they all earned her love without trying, without struggling, but with him… with him she can't tell giving from taking, can't tell what's real and what's an illusion.

It's lust and hate and desire and sometimes rage all rolled into one and she sits by the lake and wonders if all these emotions make up love for everyone, or if it's just them.

And sometimes when she sees him her heart skips a beat and sometimes it doesn't and does that make it a conditional love? An emotion that winks in and out like a firefly's light on a summer's eve?

So she eats the chocolate and the croissants and drinks the tea and reads the books and then he walks in and they kiss and he calls her baby and she still doesn't know for sure, but she figures this is better than nothing and everything, and goes to kiss him again.

**Cats (Lily and James)**

He laughs as he listens to her scold the cat and doubts there's a person in the room that would believe her displeasure was genuine.

Hazel eyes don't miss the way she strokes his fur even as she warns him to stay out of her drawers. The yellow hair ribbon is frayed and dirtied from a trip though the grounds in his claws, but the redhead seems to forget all of this as the young cat begins to purr.

She shoots the boy a mild glare as if she can read his thoughts, but his only reply is a crooked smile and a quirked brow.

Eventually the cat scampers off mid-scolding and the girl, a young woman really, returns to her appropriate place in his lap, the ribbon twining its way through her fingers as she reclines.

He removes it with a hand well calloused from hours on the pitch and takes out his wand to repair the damage.



She stops him after the briefest of pauses and reclaims the ribbon for future use as a cat toy.

The surrounding crowd laughs at her priorities, and the hazel eyed boy makes an unspoken promise that there will always be a cat in the girl's life, and most importantly, in their house.

**Posing (Lily and James)**

He sketches sometimes when he thinks no one's looking and she does her best not to be caught staring.

She can't shade a circle or color flowers just right, but that doesn't stop her love affair with the soft ink lines on his parchment.

Maybe it's vanity that drives her desire to be his permanent muse, but she firmly believes that there is never a time when he is more breathtaking than when he draws her.

His eyes take in every detail of the subject, every auburn strand, every freckle, every subtle curve and nothing makes her feel more alive than the look in his eyes when he studies her this way.

It is not arrogant that makes her admire the finished product. She likes seeing the girl he sees, knowing the reflection in his hazel eyes as he watches her.

And though she's never disposed of a single portrait, they aren't what she likes best.

The parchment can be framed, preserved, reviewed and cared for but that look in his eyes only lives in her memory until the next time she manages to sit herself in a perfect blend of light and shadow and he can't resist capturing the moment.

**Names (Mrs. Evans and Lily)**

All she thinks about these days are names. Every person she meets is subject to a brief evaluation, a comparison of an entire human being and one single word.

A jolt of terror runs through her whenever she meets someone who simply doesn't fit their name properly.

A William with skin too pale, an Amber with a frame too large, even a Samantha with a smile too wide. And then, even worse she thinks, are those people who have been misnamed for a reason she can't quite put her finger on.

Every time she encounters these people her smile is steady and her eyes bright, but one hand always jumps to her abdomen where she strokes her growing belly in fear.



The nursery is decked out in brilliant yellows and greens, every sharp corner in the house has been padded, not a day goes by in which she doesn't take her vitamins with milk, but not a single one of these preparations can soothe her when she meets one of these misnamed individuals.

Every nerve in her body tingles with the fear that her child will someday be one of those people. She has never wanted to slap anyone more in her life than at the local convenience store when a middle-aged woman chortles at her for buying a Baby Name Book.

**Packing (Rose)**

Staring at the wide array of items contrasting with the chocolate brown floorboards, she reflects on the fact that she gets worse at packing every time she does it.

Numerous friends and family have claimed that this goes against all rationale, but she is certain that this is one area in which practice doesn't make perfect- let alone solid improvement.

The train leaves in an hour, but instead of panicking the redhead wanders towards the window and absently watchers her breath fog the glass before wiping it away with a cotton sleeve and a thoughtful sigh.

Her roommates had specifically forbidden moping before reluctantly leave her to finish packing, but it seemed to be the only action she was currently capable of.

With a look at the half full trunk, she steels her resolve and begins haphazardly throwing things towards the trunk. Her uniform skirts and most socks and mittens make it inside, while a hairbrush smacks off the lid with a hollow thud and a maroon scarf overshoots to land on the nearest bed.

Then she blinks and the floors are clear. She studies the room one last time before clicking the lid into place and shoving the trunk through the doorframe.

**Author's Note:** Thanks for reading! Make my day and encourage me to keep going with a quick review!


	3. Lily

**Learning Evolution (Lily/ Hermione)**

It used to matter where the books were from. She needed to own their knowledge, store them on her bookshelf, keep them close to her heart and have them available whenever she wanted it.

Somehow that's come to matter less these days.

There are books checked out of the library on a whim, some are even returned unread. Then comes the day when she's excited to know that she's the first to hold and read and learn from this book in over 30 years.

There is a sense of kinship in dreaming that someone else has loved these characters, wormed his or her way into their lives the same way she will.

Someone had this book lying on their bedside table while they dreamt of their crush. Someone carried this book in a bag jammed with schoolbooks, or Quidditch gloves or paint supplies.

They left some sort of imprint on the surface no matter how careful their handling. Someone learned what they could, and then walked away leaving the lesson waiting for her.

And there's something comforting in that now. In the idea that it is enough to take just what you need and leave the rest.

In the idea that maybe the experience and the memory matter more than the thing itself.

**White Towel (Lily)**

She's done. She's throwing the white towel into the ring, from the way that she feels as if she can stand up straight for the first time in ages, she's not sure if it really constitutes surrender.

All she knows if that she's sick of being walked over, sick of taking the giggles and whispers and inside jokes, and no amount of past history can make up for the fact that in this moment she feels worse than she ever did sitting alone at primary school.

There is a twisted betrayal in watching the girls that were supposed to watch her back juggling knives, and instead of hating them she's come to loath herself a little bit more every time she lets them hurt her this way.

She knows for sure that she isn't perfect, but she refuses to accept all the guilt and blame for the way things have changed for the worst.

The thing that keeps her up at night is the hard won perspective that lets her see that maybe she doesn't want to go back to the way things were.

Maybe those golden days that gleam so brightly in her memory are only present because of the will of selective memory. Maybe she has been this miserable all along, and simply refused to face it before.



But it doesn't matter now, because she's severing those ties. The bad has come to far outnumber the good and she knows that if she doesn't walk now, she never will.

**Aching (Lily- had she lived)**

The gaping hole in her chest is aching and burning and expanding by the minute. The hushed murmurs from every angle say that things will improve with time.

She can feel the others moving on, but even though she has long since shed the funeral black it still cloaks her in misery.

There is a veil on her heart that their pitying glances can't penetrate, and no amount of warm, soothing touches can patch the barren gap.

Some days it's a ripping sensation, right in her very core as if her whole being is vanishing, being eaten alive by the sorrow and misery and regret. Other days it is a numbness that leaves her too cold to shake.

The pauses in her breath and pulse seem to drag on, so that it is a minor shock whenever another patch of air or beat of blood passes.

There are times when the sound of his name is a knife ripping into her carefully constructed barriers, shredding what remains of her heart so that the pieces feel foreign in her chest. Then at other times there is no reaction whatsoever.

The name remains in her consciousness for the shortest of moments before being shoved deep into the dark corner of her mind that is reserved for any memory of their lives together.

She thinks with a hollow laugh that if this is healing it won't be long before she joins him.

**Individuality (Lily)**

Individuality had never been more of a struggle than during her fifteenth year.

Her nail polish cycled from cream to fuchsia to sunflower to midnight in what seemed like mere hours and even something as fundamental as her smile made minute alterations daily.

It was amazing how one quirk of either lip could change her expression entirely; from a vixen's pout to a naive schoolgirl's grin. One day she was reading an old classic, cuddled within the folds of a decades old quilt.

The next she was flipping the tissue thin pages of the latest glamour magazine from under the confines of a retro plaid duvet.

She considered darkening her auburn red locks a variety of times and even came home with a semi-permanent caramel brown hue for Easter break.



The more anyone tried to advise the harder she rebelled until her family learned to carefully school their features into an expression of nonchalance whenever she made a dramatic entrance.

Eventually she was back to sprawling on her floor, sketching the sights of London from a well worn travel guide and allowing an old, scratched CD to fill the gaps in inspiration as she worked in charcoal and pen with the tips of her bare uncolored fingertips.

**Early Morning (Lily- the way it could've been)**

The room is awash in the glow of another early dawn, and she takes care not to wake her companion as she rises from the king bed.

Her bare feet draw muted creaks from the dark cherry wood as she makes her way down the hall.

She hesitates briefly at each brightly painted door along the way, sparing a moment to list for any noise beyond the sighs and rumblings of a child's deep sleep.

Then it's down the creaking, curving master stairs, and she gives a soft sigh of contentment as her feet sink into the lush carpet at the stairs' base.

Absentmindedly she treads her way to the kitchen, where she plucks an apple from the bursting fruit bowl and snags a caramel colored afghan from the fireplace grate.

Her voyage continues to his study at the far end of the ground floor, where she falls into the heavily cushioned window seat with the elegance of long practice.

Two small hands pull a well worn novel from its resting place on the floor and vivid emerald eyes take in the house's surrounding gardens before steadfastly committing themselves to the task at hand.

The book opens with a barely noticeable groan and its pages pepper the air with soft sighs as their reader searches out her most recent passage.

**Author's Note:** In this section I kind of looked at the way things might've been had Lily lived, and Harry had been raised in a traditional home. This chapter is a bit shorter than the others, but I wasn't quite sure what people wanted to see. I'd be much obliged to anyone who dropped a line with an idea of what they might like to see next. Thanks so much for reading- a review would make my day! As always- constructive criticism is completely welcome! I really want to improve as a writer!

**Disclaimer**: Sooo sorry I haven't posted one of these before! Trust me if I was J.K. Rowling I would not be living my life with a serious addiction to fanfiction. The characters, settings and anything else you recognize are not mine!


	4. What Could've Been

**Petunia's First Christmas**

There was something surprisingly genuine in her features as she methodically unpacked the Christmas ornaments from their bulky, time worn wrappings.

The season's earlier drought had given way to a heavy snowfall and by a fortnight into the Holiday month the landscape had truly become a winter wonder land.

After a quarter hour of diligence, the girl was completely surrounded by an eclectic mix of holiday memorabilia. The many rings encasing her lithe fingers glimmered mischievously in the candlelight as she tuned the old radio in the corner.

Old scars were faintly visible on each finger as she dressed the large spruce in popcorn strands and bundles of holly berries.

When the tree was covered, she paused to stoke the fire in the heart and sip from a thick hot chocolate mug, its golden enamel interspersed with cracks that winked in the firelight.

Mocha brown eyes studied the tree critically before their owner selected the first ornament.

The customary decorating seemed to flow with a steady pattern after that and soon it was a struggle to find spare space for each and every ornament, no matter how fraying or fresh.

By the dawning of the next day, she stood proudly before her home's first symbol of Holiday tradition.

**Author's Note:** I realize that the formatting isn't reader friendly, so I'm attempting to work on that. Any tips would be appreciated!


	5. The Godfather

Dedication- My older sister, the best beta a girl could ask for.

**Godfather**

**James+ Remus**

"Absolutely not."

"I already told you Moony, this asking business is just a formality. I am _not_ taking no for an answer."

"James, please. You can't trust me with this. Use Sirius; he'll be expecting it and he's done an amazing job so far."

The taller of the two men ran a frustrated hand through his hair as he paced in front of his paler. "Moony, listen the hell up and listen good because I will only say this once. I trust you with this child, just like I trust you with Harry, just like I trust you with Lily and nothing you say is going to convince me otherwise."

"But Prongs-"

"I don't want to hear another word. You're the man for the job. Sirius already has Harry. He'll more than understand. And if you think _I'm_ ignoring your protests, just be thankful Lil isn't here. Don't make me tell my hormonal wife that her favorite Marauder has refused to godfather her baby girl."

"No, James be reasonable! You can't just go throwing this type of responsibility around! I don't know the first thing about being a godfather. Harry worships the ground Sirius walks on. I would be a disappointment, and Merlin forbid if something happens to you! With the state of the Ministry, you can't leave a werewolf responsible for your child."

"And you think Sirius read some handbook? Merlin, Remus there isn't some standard formula. If I just wanted another Sirius for the job I would've bloody asked him. We want you. You're going to be amazing with her- I know it. Just give in already! I already told you I'm not taking no for an answer."

"You're completely overlooking the fact that I'm a ruddy WEREWOLF! I'm dangerous!"

"THAT'S BULLOCKS and you know it! So what if you're under the weather for a fraction of the month? As if I'm going to leave my youngest on your doorstep at full moon and ask you to play child minder!

"Alright, if you and Lily are sure… and if you change your mind at anytime I'll completely understand that-"

"Now that's the spirit, mate!"



"Thank you, James. I'm honored."

"Couldn't have just said that at the beginning and saved me the effort?"

**A/N:** Sorry I haven't had much to say for awhile. I don't feel as if this piece is really properly polished and quite right, but I wanted to get it out there and see if I could get any constructive criticism or advice. As always, thanks so much for reading and please consider dropping a review no matter how brief!


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